Reason to Breathe
by Aviator39
Summary: ::I have a feeling that once you live through something like this, you become a little bit invincible:: If only that were true. In a world of secrets, Phil Coulson's is the most valuable. A daughter not born, but made. His to love, or at least that's how it should have been. Trapped in a gilded cage with a monster, her life is a nightmare, her love story a tragedy. No one is safe.
1. Chapter One

**Psychology Fact** : _The largest part of what we call "personality" is how we've opted to defend ourselves against anxiety and sadness._

Stark Tower cut an imposing figure cutting through the downtown Manhattan skyline. Its architecture and design breathtaking even in a city of sky scrapers. And, the fact that it housed the famous group of heroes in the world only added to its mystique.

She clenched the folded square of pale, yellow stationary in her hand. Several names and addresses were penned in neat, elegant handwriting – the Tower in front of her the only one not crossed out.

She had memorized names and faces and titles, not wanting to leave a bad impression, should this turn out to a dead-end like the others. After three weeks with no word from her father she was growing desperate. Although, if she were honest with herself, it would be a blessing if he didn't return from wherever he was.

Approaching the glass doors, she opened the right and was immediately immersed in a hub of activity.

People in suits, lab coats and even coveralls bustled back and forth through the lobby, a group of students was being lead on a tour and several SHIELD agents stood out starkly in their uniforms.

Ducking and weaving she made her way through the masses to the white, curving reception desk.

"Hello. How may I assist you?" One of the receptionist asked.

She swallowed nervously. "I-I'm looking for Agent Coulson." Her tone was polite, if slightly questioning. "I was told this address was a possible location. It is urgent that I speak with him."

The receptionist paused, typing something into her computer, her lips slightly pursed. "Are you with the press?" She asked bluntly, not looking up.

"No."

"Are you an over-zealous fan?"

She furrowed her brow, licking her lips. "No."

The receptionist glanced up briefly. "Are you alone?"

"Yes…"

The receptionist nodded, mouse clicking as she did something on her computer before looking up. "You will be searched upon arrival to the Communal Floor." She stated and pointed to the bank of elevators across the lobby. "The middle elevator will take you right up. Do _not_ do anything stupid."

Taking that as her cue, she walked towards the elevators, heels clicking sharply on the polished marble floor and nearly jumped as the doors slid open the moment she arrived in front of them revealing faux wood paneled walls that she leant against gratefully once the doors had slid closed.

She opened the simple, white billfold that had been tucked under her arm and slipped the square of stationary back inside before snapping it shut and tucking it back under her left arm. Smoothing down her navy-blue dress, she straightened the bow of the wide, white ribbon wrapped around her waist before lightly pinching the bridge of her nose and taking several calming breaths.

Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest and she resolved that she would have to consult Dr. Yukimura the next time she saw the indifferent, Japanese woman.

The minute the elevator doors slid open, she felt her stomach drop and her heart claw its way into her throat.

In front of her stood a man with a face that she recognized, unruly brown hair pulled back in a sloppy bun. His metal arm shined as if freshly polished, the fading red star reminding her exactly who he was.

He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, and she issued an aborted yelp as he pressed her hands above her head against the wall next to the elevator – her billfold landed on the polished floor with a muted smack.

He wasn't searching her though, as the receptionist said would happen. Instead her pulled back, guiding her hands down until he held both her wrists in a loose grip for a moment before releasing her entirely.

Picking up her billfold, she watched in mild amusement as he ran his hands over his pink-tinged, keeping it covered as he simply pointed across the living area towards where faint strains of conversation could be heard.

"…Okay…" She murmured, and slid by him before walking in the direction he'd pointed.

Once she was a decent distance away, she glanced back over her shoulder, watching as he silently berated himself. As she looked forward again, she neared the dining room and was awash in the most enticing smells she had encountered in a long while.

She stepped into what she presumed to be the dinning/kitchen area given the large glass dining table and the open concept kitchen surrounded on three sides by panoramic views of the city.

She knew these faces – had seen and memorized each individual file when she had first gone to Director Fury in hopes that he could shed light on where her father was. Truthfully, she was grateful SHIELD had survived everything – the cleansing of HYDRA agents from its ranks, the Sokovia/Ultron incident and the so-called, petty Civil War between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark – it had kept her father far too busy to pay any real attention to her.

Whatever animosity had poisoned their ranks before was clearly gone as the Avengers smiled, laughing as they passed around crackling plates of steak – her father had liked to make fajitas once…maybe…she wasn't entirely sure. The sight was surreal – very much like restaurant where everyone dressed in their pajamas.

Opening her mouth to speak, she was halted as the air behind her became icy, her breath fogging in the air as a slippery smooth voice spoke. "It seems we have company."

All eyes focused on her, but hers focused on the person passing her. He wore a dark green tunic and loose black trousers, while his raven black hair curled around a precariously sculpted face.

Loki. It was impossible to mistake him for anybody else, especially with that sly smirk on his lips.

"Oh," Tony said, not getting up from his seat at the table. "You must be the one the front desk let up."

It took her a few moments to respond. "Yes. I'm so sorry. I had known you were eating, I would have insisted on coming back at another time."

"Nonsense." Pepper shook her head, giving her an easy smile as she waved her over. "Come on, tell us what you need." She paused. "Are you hungry?"

"No, really. It's quite alright." She replied, taking a few well practiced steps back. "I can comeback. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Jane frowned softly, concern pooling in her brown eyes. "It's just lunch." She urged gently. "Come on. Tell us your name and we'll see if we can help you."

"Lyra. My name is Lyra." She licked her lips, at loss for how to protest further when so many eyes were watching her – expecting her to stay. Smoothing out the front of her dress she let out a weak chuckle when Wanda stood and guided her to a chair between herself and Bucky, the metal-armed soldier seeming to shy away, peaking Lyra's interest. "I'm looking for my father, Agent Coulson. Has he been in contact with you?" Lyra paused, ducking her head and brushed a honey blonde curl from in front of her cobalt blue eyes and sighed quietly. "He went on a mission approximately three weeks ago and I haven't heard from him since." She lowered her further, hair creating a curtain between her and the others. "I'm worried…"

Natasha leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand as she studied Lyra. "You know…now that I look at you…, you do look a bit like Phil."

Lyra snorted softly. "I look like my mother." _That's why he hates me._ She said and ran a hand through her curls. "Look, I really do appreciate your hospitality, but I really should be going." Attempting to stand, she stopped short as Bucky clamped his metal hand on her lower arm and she swallowed nervously, instinctual fear blowing her pupils wide and sending her heart pounding – she was even shaking ever so slightly.

"No." Was all he said before returning to his meal.

Lyra sank down her seat, acutely aware of the others' eyes on her as she attempted to get ahold of herself even as Loki's expression slipped into a rather impressive pout as he proceeded to angrily stab at his fajitas. His expression darkened at the few snickers shot his way.

She blinked a couple of times, folding her hands demurely in her lap, avoiding everyone's gazes. "Am I missing something?" Lyra inquired softly, and if the others noticed the sudden shift in personality, they politely didn't comment on it.

Natasha quickly shook her head, calculating gaze flicking around Lyra, no doubt trying to get a read on the girl. "Nah." She chuckled. "Only one of us is missing something." Her expression slipped smoothly to teasing as she eyed Bucky.

"Hilarious." Bucky deadpanned and flipped her off.

"Guys, behave." Steve chastised. "We have a guest."

Pietro and Scott laughed. "Yes, mother." Pietro teased, smiling around a bite of steak as Peter snickered behind his hand and Sam attempted to not bust out laughing.

"So," Tony leaned closer – too close – to Lyra and she tensed, muscles locking and tightening up. "Tell us about yourself."

Jane rolled her eyes before sharing a concerned glance with Thor. "Demanding much?" She questioned, giving Lyra an apologetic look.

"I am so sorry about him." Pepper sighed, rubbing at her temples.

Lyra shook her head, staring at the plate of fajitas Loki had slid in front of her. Clint giggled along with Wanda at the look she shot the god. "…You want me to eat?"

"Well," Vision interjected. "You do know how to eat, correct?" He questioned, sharing a curious glance with the others.

Lyra picked up the fork Darcy slid to her. "Yes." She mumbled, taking a bite. "This is delicious!"

"Bucky is an excellent cook." Loki chuckled, earning a glare from the former Winter Soldier. "Such a perfect little housewife."

"Guys, come on." Clint sighed. "Don't start another fight. The fourth floor gym is still in repair." He grumbled.

Sam snorted and shook his head, while Bruce pulled up a hologram. "You mean it's still trashed." Bruce muttered.

Lyra cocked her head to the right and glanced at Tony. "Pardon my saying so, but it seems a bit childish to start a fight over something so small."

"It was a bet." Loki defended, taking a sip of his drink. "Besides, Bucky started."

"Still awfully childish." Lyra stated, catching herself despite Wanda's nod of agreement as her cheeks heated at Loki's friendly chuckle. "Aside from that, the room's structure wasn't sound. Frankly, it's a miracle the support beams didn't give out sooner."

Tony gave her an assessing look. "And how exactly did you know that?" He asked.

Lyra jerked her head up to stare at him, swallowing thickly. "I…um…I'm taking an architecture and design class at home." She answered softly, clenching her hands in her lap. Her father was literally going to kill her when he got home. Her body ached and her mind screamed at the memory of the damage his fists could do.

"So, you're homeschooled." Pietro commented. "That's pretty cool."

Lyra nodded slowly, pushing her still half-filled plate away. "It's nice." She lied smoothly and smiled sweetly at the others. "Thank you for lunch."

Pepper and Darcy laughed lightly. "You're so polite." Pepper said and paused. "If only this punch could manage manners like yours."

"Don't count on it." Peter quipped.

"I really should be going. My tutor is probably where I've wandered off to." Lyra murmured, rising from her seat before pushing it back into place. "He's probably worried about me."

"I'm sure he's fine." Tony waved a hand. "You're with the Avengers. What could happen?"

The others snickered. "Many, many things." Jane stated. "But, Tony's right. I'm sure your tutor will be fine."

Lyra nodded, honey blonde curls bouncing. "I left a note. It's just that, I wasn't supposed to go out." She paused, hands worrying around her billfold. "But I got…concerned."

"What do you mean you're not supposed to go out?" Darcy asked, sharing a concerned look with the others. "Do you need his permission or somethin'?"

"I'm not supposed to go _**anywhere**_ without him." _I'm not allowed to anywhere at all._ Lyra stated as she played with one of her many curls.

Silence fell, while some of the group breathed out "Oh…"

Peter spoke first. "Well from what I've been told, you're Dad's a good guy." He stated, finishing off his fajitas. "I'm sure he's just looking out for you. You are his daughter after all."

Lyra nodded, lips pressed together. If only they knew how much a monster her father was capable of being.

"Why don't I wrap you up something for you to take home." Steve offered, giving Lyra an encouraging smile.

Lyra shook her head softly. "No thank you. But I appreciate the offer." She replied politely. "Our cook will have already made something."

Before Steve could protest, the ding of the elevator arriving echoed through the Common Floor. Lyra knew those subtle clicks from the heels of very expensive dress shoes as everyone turned their focus on the approaching footsteps.

When she saw Jarvis, she heard a sharp gasp from behind her but didn't pay it any attention. She smiled widely at Jarvis and he smiled back hesitantly, steel blue eyes flickering around the dining space.

"Jarvis?" Tony whispered, voice disbelieving as Lyra switched her attention to him. She tensed as he stood, brushing past her to step closer to Jarvis and reach out only to have the other man take a practiced step back, Tony's outstretched hand curling into a fist.

Jarvis furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry, Sir." He murmured. "Have we met?"

Tony seemed to crumble instantly, face horror stricken but he didn't speak again, pressing his lips together and allowing Jarvis to walk past him. "I got home and you were gone." Jarvis scolded Lyra as he approached her, but his words lacked any bite.

Lyra licked her lips, hands clasped around her billfold that she held in front of her. "I know…I know." She smiled weakly at him. "I'm sorry. I did leave a note."

He nodded, digging into his suit jacket pocket and produced a piece of ivory stationary. "And still, you were gone." He tucked it away again, smoothing down the lapels of his suit. "Hello, I am terribly sorry for intruding on your meal."

"It's no problem." Steve said, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "You are?" He prompted, still clearly embarrassed about being caught by now a second stranger in pajamas.

Jarvis cleared his throat softly, fingers toying with the brim of the hat he held in his hands. "Edwin Jarvis, butler and private tutor to Miss Coulson." Tony looked ready to either pass out, have an anxiety attack, panic attack or all three as Pepper wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders, murmuring soothing words into his ear as she led him away.

"That's funny." Darcy frowned, pursing her full lips. "The computer thing is named Jarvis."

Jarvis cocked his head slightly. "Personal opinion aside…it is quite a name to be had." He looked over to Lyra. "We must leave at once. Your father sent word that he'd be arriving home at any time today."

Everyone watched as Lyra paled and began to tremble at the mention of her father coming home. They shared glances with each other and Lyra ducked her head and took a few calming breaths.

"Right…" She murmured, and looked up again. "I suppose we should be on our way."

Jarvis nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I appreciate the kindness and hospitality you've shown. I'm sure Lyra does as well." He said briskly. "But, we really must be going."

Lyra nodded, giving the others a brief but grateful smile. "Thank you." She said earnestly.

The others stared after them dumbfounded as they disappeared across the Common Floor and listened the elevator doors slide closed and begin its descent.

Once downstairs, Jarvis pulled open the car door for Lyra and the soft leather sighed beneath her as they exited the 'Guest Parking' garage and she cast one final look up at the Tower as Jarvis steered the car into the rush of downtown Manhattan traffic.

She folded her hands gently in her lap, body stiff with tension as she stared out the window.

Jarvis cleared his throat and she closed her eyes, fingernails digging to the soft skin of her palm. "Lyra…" It was so odd hearing him speak to her familiarly now that it was just them. "Who was that man? The one that reached out to me?"

Lyra swallowed, catching his eyes in the rear-view mirror. "His name is Tony Stark. He is a very famous man."

He looked back to the road for a moment as he executed a smooth left turn. "How did he know me?"

She shrugged, the lies slipping between her full lips before she could feel ashamed for lying to her…what exactly would he be? "Perhaps father has mentioned you before." Her eyes flicked back to stare out the window.

"Are you certain we have not met before?' Jarvis navigated the car into the ritzier part of Manhattan, the spaces between houses growing larger and larger to match the lot sizes.

Lyra kept her eyes on the soft rain that had begun to fall and streak past the window. "Yes, Jarvis." _You've met before._


	2. Chapter Two

**Warning this chapter contains triggers for abuse and rape! Do not read further if this material disturbs you or will cause you undue distress.**

* * *

"Sacrifice. It's what we do for the people we love." - Gail Forman, If I Stay

* * *

It felt right - Jarvis holding her hand.

A simple action of him helping her out of the car makes butterflies erupt in her stomach and for a moment everything is right and sane in the world. They are a normal couple, with normal love and normal future.

But fate dealt a cruel hand in the form of Phil Coulson. Adorable agent, obsessed with Captain America - Agent Coulson who gets the job done and never leaves a man behind - is a cruel, violent man that speaks with fists, or like now, the butt of his 9mm.

"Get the fuck up!" He screamed at her, watching her slide across the floor, gasping for air and pale fingers dancing to protect her split cheek. "I said, get the fuck up!"

Reality, again. Lyra stared at her father in a way she hadn't in a long time, with utter, terrified disbelief that her own father was treating her this way. He held the gun in a shaky hand and his tie and jacket were missing, signaling he had been home for a quite awhile - no doubt hitting the bottle as well.

"I'm sorry -" She was cut of by him snarling and cowers.

He opened his mouth to speak but spotted movement from his right peripheral and he levels his gun at Jarvis, who froze in the doorway. "Don't you even think of helping her."

Jarvis froze, hands held up in surrender as he backed away, but not before casting a mournful glance Lyra's way. She was shaking and sobbing, cerulean blue eyes fixated on her father before she realized Jarvis was still there and she knew - if she let him stand there much longer - that he'll spring without her word and she shook her head fiercely.

"Go." She whispered as her father came to loom over her.

He struck her again, this time just beside her eye. Her vision blurred as she slumped to the ground, whimpering and in far too much pain to do anything except beg for her life - like she had done so many times before, where she shouldn't have to.

"I'm sorry!" She cried. "Please, Daddy..."

Phil let out an animalistic growl and hauled her to her feet by her hair. The pain at her roots made her belt out a long scream of pain, her eyes darting around his face and looking for more help.

"What have I told you!" He screamed. "Coulson's don't beg."

He dropped her like a sack of potatoes and she hit the floor hard, her kneed cracking on the white marble and she whimpered again, trying to push herself up by her arms. Lyra heard the subtle click of pressure on the trigger and she whimpered.

"Please..." She mumbled; mascara and eyeliner have run down her face.

There was a muffled pop in her eyes and her eyes go impossibly wide, she stills and then begins to tremble violently.

Lyra let out a blood curdling scream at the sound of the gun shot as white hot pain shoots through her leg. Another scream, louder this time. More pain - her side, where a bullet grazed.

It was worse today, as he slammed her on top of his desk. Her hands scrambled, knocking over pens and a half empty bottle of bourbon, which only pissed her father off more. She sobbed as pain shot up her thigh, her side and she sees the gun shine dully in his hand.

"What do Coulson's not do?" He snarled. "Answer me, you dumb little bitch!"

Lyra whimpered, her survival side breaching her common sense. "Daddy, please." She let out another blood curdling scream as he dug a finger into the bullet hole in her thigh.

Her nails dig into the expensive wood, leaving small crescents that only deepen as he twisted his finger. Her skin had broken out in a sweat and it felt as though her heart may very well beat itself to death before her father can.

"What do Coulson's not do?" Phil hissed and pressed his body against hers.

Lyra swallowed convulsively, before answering meekly. "They do not beg."

"Good girl." He praised patronizingly and trailed his hand towards her inner thighs, pushing them apart. "But," He chuckled into her ear. "You still don't learn." He growled and took a hold of her hair. "You shouldn't have begged in the first place, you stupid whore!"

After a moment of tugging, she heard the stitching of her dress crackle, pop and shred away, leaving her exposed.

"No." Lyra protested softly, knowing full well it was futile.

That was all it took - her body seized when there was a loud pop, her blurry eyes settling on the gun he had raised above his head. He slowly pointed it down at her, digging it under her chin as his thighs danced between hers.

"Shut the fuck up." He hissed softly and smirked a little. "I'll blast pretty boy to Hell and back just to watch you bury him like Michael."

 _Michael..._

Tears rose above the tide and she covered her face, feeling the heat of his breath making the fine hairs along her throat prickle. "Coulson's don't beg, and if they do, they get punished. See if you do it again."

He tore into her. A bullet was Heaven compared to him and her lips open in a silent scream, her own nails digging into her cheeks as she dragged them down her face, barely missing her eyes.

Jarvis winced and trembled with every bang and scream that came from inside the study. Considering there was a heavy amount of both sounds...he looked like he was being struck as well. He looked up from the kitchen counter and could see Peggy peeking out form around the corner that led to the "family" room. She moved to step forward, but Jarvis shook his head.

The last thing he wanted was her in Mr. Coulson's crosshairs as well.

After several moments of silently staring at each other, Peggy and Jarvis realized the noises had stopped and all the could be heard was the subtle shift of fabric and the grind of a zipper.

"Seems like you learned your lesson." Phil muttered, adjusting himself and staring down at her pale, pathetic form. "Guess you won't beg anymore, huh?"

He snorted derisively and left the room. Lyra fell to the floor, barely managing to crawl under the desk and start to sob uncontrollably, legs curled up to her chin despite the pain coming from every edge and curve of her body.

"No crying, you stupid fuck!" Her father screamed down the hall and she stopped, trapping the sobs in her chest until it felt like bursting and biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Lyra heard a door slam and released the breath built up in her chest. It was all her fault, every bit of this. She was told to stay home and she didn't, even snuck out on Jarvis and Peggy. But to look for him, that had to count for something, right? Wrong.

She jumped as soft fingers touch the side of her face, but she can't help the full body flinch that pulls her away from the sympathetic face of Jarvis, Peggy just behind him.

"Come..." Jarvis murmured, cradling her close despite the trembling and helped her to her feet; there's too much blood to tell the source. "Let's get you up to her room."

Lyra nodded weakly and lets him help her while she stumbled and whimpered at every small jolt of pain wracks her delicate frame. It's not the worse, but it also isn't the most tame she had ever experienced in her own personal Hell.

Once they're in her room, she avoids sitting on the bed - not wanting to stain the pristine white bedding. Instead, she limped to the white toned bathroom and settled down on the cushioned bench outside her shower, the plastic crinkled under her weight and she grimaced as she slid a little because of the blood.

"Peggy," She started and said woman turned to face her. "Fetch me a clean dress please."

Peggy opened her mouth as if to speak but closed it, nodding and making her way over to the walk-in closet. Jarvis gave them both a pained look before soaking a washcloth in warm water.

"It wasn't as bad as it could have been." Lyra murmured once he was close enough. "Not by far."

Something clicked inside of Jarvis and his temper flared, eyes widening. "Not bad? How can you -" He shook his head fiercely and Peggy watched from the opposite side of the room. "It was most definitely bad from my point of view."

"You could have died too." Peggy whispered, approaching with a lavender dress in her hands. "He could have shot you like he did Michael."

"Yes, and then where would that leave Peggy and I?" Lyra whispered. "No, it's better if his attention is focused on me."

"I just - I cannot..." Jarvis trailed off.

Lyra sighed and took his face in her hands. "I cannot lose you." She emphasized the last word.

Peggy pursed her lips and gave them a soft, sad smile. "Come on." She murmured softly, shaking out the dress in her hands. "Let's get you cleaned up and changed."

Lyra nodded before standing. She winced as she shrugged out of her shredded dress, letting it fall to the floor.

"Lyra, really." Peggy admonished.

She shrugged. "Does it really matter at this point, Peggy?"

Peggy shook her head and winced in time with Lyra as Jarvis assisted her clean up. "No, but it is etiquette. You're still a lady."

"I don't feel like it." Lyra murmured, holding her hand out to take the dress from Peggy. "I have no doubt that he expects me at dinner."

"Hold still." Jarvis instructed, pressing down gently on the gauze at her ribs. "He'll be sure to cut you down with words there."

She gripped his shoulder as Jarvis began to gently wind a roll of gauze around the bullet hole in her thigh, the shrapnel on the floor and soaked in blood; when had he - it didn't matter.

"I have no doubt." She murmured, staring at the thumb he used to press down on the tape. "I prefer the days he doesn't like dinner. Perhaps if he drank more..."

Jarvis took a step back as Peggy stepped in, gently easing Lyra into the dress and doing up the lacing at the back. It was lavender with lace trim. It was loose, but not loose enough that he would accuse her of being sloppy.

Lyra winced as Peggy tied the white sash and began to brush out her curls.

"He's a monster." Jarvis muttered distastefully and Peggy's head snapped up to look at the doorway, half expecting to see Mr. Coulson standing there, gun in hand.

Lyra sighed, plucking up the sterling silver hair comb aligned with three sapphires and a diamond in the crest. "Don't I know it." She reached back and pinned her curls in place with the comb.

"Please, be careful at dinner." Peggy pleaded, running a loving hand down Lyra's arm.

Lyra nodded softly. "He'll get what he deserves one day." Her jaw ticked with angry tension. "Every monster gets slain, right?"

"Right." Jarvis murmured, pulling her close. "Even a dragon can be felled by a sword." He paused, hand coming up to stroke her back. "The question is when will he be slain and by whom?"

Lyra turned her head towards the mirror and stared at her reflection, eyes darting around the bruising she wouldn't be able to hide and the faint outline of gauze on her ribs, wrapped around her thigh. "Me." She said.

* * *

Tony ran his hands over his face and sank into the plush couch in the Common Room. It had been several hours since Lyra and that man had left and he was still in a bit of shock; he couldn't shake it.

An eerie feeling and so many memories had flooded his senses, it had almost triggered a panic attack.

"This can't be happening." He breathed. "There is no possible way for him to be alive."

"Him who?" Jane asked as she entered and sat next to him.

"The butler, Jarvis." Tony waved a hand. "He died in the accident that killed my parents."

Jane paused and shrugged a little. "Well maybe -" She tried.

"He. Died." Tony seethed through clenched teeth. "I went over the papers countless times trying to find out how and why my parents died, and I saw the scene photos. I saw him, all banged up and mangled and he...he died, Wanda." He paused and sighed. "But there he was with some strange girl that we never even knew existed."

Jane was silent for a long time, still trying to wrap her own brain around what had taken place that afternoon. "You know..." She murmured. "There was something a little off about her. Did you see her eyes? They had no reflection."

Tony arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Jane shook her head and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Since joining SHIELD, I've gotten the chance to work wit there prototype androids and well, they...they don't reflect anything. No scenery, not even your face if you get right up in their business."

"So, you're saying that she's not human." Tony asked and gave her a disbelieving look. "That's not possible."

Jane hummed under her breath. "What about..." She paused. "What about life model decoys?"

Tony frowned. "What about them?" He question and turned towards her.

Jane ran a hand through her hair. "What if she's one of them? What if they both are?"

Tony shook his head. "Jarvis...reflected me, he recognized me. Life model decoys are wiped and he knew me. God damn it, he knew me!"

She threw up her hands. "Then I don't know Tony. He's definitely not human because I didn't see a reflection. Maybe you imagined it." He snarled at her. "I'm just trying to help."

"I know." Tony snapped and then paused, sighing. "I just...it's a little overwhelming."

Before Jane could answer, she noticed Steve standing in the doorway. His face was pale, ashen and he was still as stone. Tony and Jane shared a mildly concerned look before Jane spoke up.

"Steve..." She murmured, voice laced with concern. "Steve, what's wrong?"

Steve shook his head, coming back to reality before sinking into the nearest arm chair. "I just saw Peggy." He breathed and rubbed his eyes. "I swear to God, I saw her."

"Peggy?" Jane asked. "Who's Peggy?" She looked to Tony but Steve spoke up.

"A woman I knew during the war - before I was frozen." He paused. "I know it was her. I tried to catch her, but she just disappeared. Called her name and everything - she turned to me."

"First Jarvis and now Peggy." Tony muttered and stood. "What the Hell is going on with Phil Coulson? Is he building these people in his basement? And they those two specifically?"

Steve shook his head. "I...I..." He didn't try to speak anymore, just hung his head and tried to comprehend what had happened.

"I think we all deserve some answers." Natasha looked in from the entrance to the dining room. "You and Steve need them the most, I understand it's a little hard." The others began to trickle in and Tony knew they had been eavesdropping.

"So, I take it that means we're all going?" Bruce asked. "Don't you think that might scare her? We all saw how scared she was talking about Coulson."

The others were silent as they thought this over. "I think we should all go." Clint stated. "If only some of us go, messages could get crossed and then we'll be even more confused than we are now."

"Right," Pietro agreed. "But how are we going to find her?"

Tony smirked then, looking more like his usual self. "No foreign car parks itself in my garage without getting tracking device." He stood. "Let's get a move on."

* * *

Lyra stood slowly from the dinner table.

She had waited to rise until her father had left for SHIELD, yet again, and then had waited some time after to be sure he truly was gone and not planning a surprise attack on her.

"Thank God for small miracles." Lyra murmured under her breath and released her curls from the confining hair comb.

Her stomach rumbled as she threaded her fingers through her hair gently, untangling the occasional knot she found. She had barely touched her food - not that her father cared. She'd been too nervous to eat and her father's glaring didn't help even as he inhaled in his own food. He didn't care if she ate or not, just that she was there was enough to get him off.

A knock sounded through the house.

"Hello?" She could hear Jarvis speaking to someone, and as she got closer to the foyer she heard him give a sharp intake of breath. "I shall have to ask Miss Coulson. One moment, please."

Lyra stepped back a couple feet, her own heart racing. She watched him come into the dining room, body rigid with tension and his jaw ticking steadily. She approached him slowly, fingers worrying the comb in her hand.

"It's the Avengers, isn't it?" She asked, dreading the answer.

Jarvis nodded sharply, steel blue eyes searching her own cerulean ones.

Lyra sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Let them in."

* * *

 **Hello! Thanks for reading :) Please a review. They encourage me to continue, and let me know that people are actually reading these things. Haha :/**


	3. Chapter Three

Psychology Fact: Children exposed to violence in their family show the same pattern of activity of activity in their brains as soldiers exposed to combat.

* * *

Lyra had seen a myriad of visitors cross the threshold of her house. Whether they were her father's friends, co-workers or guests...but she had get to have actual heroes come to her doorstep.

She licked her lips and straightened out her dress, hesitant - but if her father caught wind of her not acting like a proper Coulson...the consequences would be far worse than the earlier that day. Especially if she acted like she truly wanted to in front of the Avengers.

"I said, let them in." Lyra said, tone coming across as scolding when she saw Jarvis still standing there.

Jarvis gave her an odd look, but nodded before waling back into the foyer and pulling open the carved oak door. Lyra swallowed convulsively at seeing the entire team standing there, right hand painfully tight around the hair comb.

"Ladies...Gentlemen." Lyra intoned flatly and tilted her chin up ever so slightly.

She was taller than most of them, even with flats on. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes. "Well look who suddenly sounds all posh." He snipped, casting Jarvis a side glance that had him frowning.

Lyra resisted the urge to sigh. "Perhaps I was mistaken in allowing Mr. Jarvis to let you in." She replied coolly. "I will not be insulted in my own home, Mr. Stark. If this is the attitude you are going to take, then you may show yourself out." Her upper lip curled in well practice disgust as she regarded them.

"Save it kid." Tony snickered as he looked around and Lyra watched him; she thanked Heaven that her father didn't have cameras planted around the house. He looked dead at Lyra and she stiffened. "Look kid, you come into _my_ tower acting all humble and soft and shit - then here comes the harass attitude," Tony held up a hand. "Save it for someone who doesn't know better."

Lyra's eyes flicked to Jarvis, who had his lips pursed; he nodded slowly and Lyra relaxed slightly. But, she couldn't relax fully, she'd be in hot water if her father came in...if one of the help wanted to get on his good side...

"Why did you all come here?" She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest to stop the trembling. "H-How did you find me?"

"Tracked your car." Tony replied flippantly and Lyra gave Jarvis a pointed look.

"How...tactful." Lyra replied flatly. "Mr. Jarvis if you would have the mechanic remove Mr. Stark's tracking device."

Jarvis nodded. "Of course, Miss Coulson." He replied, but remained in place.

Tony rolled his eyes. "No point now really." He chuckled. "I already know where you live."

Lyra firmed her jaw. "That may be, but I don't appreciate knowing that a man such as yourself can follow you anywhere." She stated. "Besides, Mr. Stark, I thought you would've recognized your childhood home when you searched the address your tracker gave you?"

Tony shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest - defensive? "Don't really remember anything from it...except how high the bedroom in the East Wing is." He chuckled. "You know you can jump from it and land perfectly in the bushes without hurting yourself?"

"Tony, I don't think she wants to talk about how many times you snuck out." Bruce chided and stepped forward. "Lyra, we came because of your files that we scavenged online, and let me apologize in advance for snooping on you."

Lyra sniffed, fingers clenched around the hair comb, but didn't reply. Bruce swallowed nervously. She was so different from the girl who had visited the Tower, no longer meek and quiet, but placid and cool.

"Do go on, Dr. Banner." Lyra drawled.

Bruce cleared his throat. "The thing is, the information in your files doesn't match up with what we've observed of you." He stated.

Lyra arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "And you think you know everything about me from one meeting?" She questioned. "I would've thought you as a scientist would know better than that."

"I'm not just a scientist, Lyra." Bruce murmured and glanced at the others. "I've spent years studying people when they're not paying attention, and I know you're not who you're trying to pass yourself off as."

"You don't know who I am." Lyra murmured, a sick feeling rolling in her gut. She tightened a hand in the fabric over her stomach. "Why did you come here?"

Steve stepped forward, slightly amazed at how calm Lyra had remained so far. "We just want to talk." He said honestly.

Lyra pursed her lips, but stayed still. "I can't imagine you have anything worth discussing with me, Captain Rogers." She stated flatly. "Now, I'd like to leave."

Steve frowned and stepped forward, grabbing Lyra's arm in an uncharacteristic display of aggression. "Hey now." He said sternly, cornflower blue eyes darkening towards storm. "You don't get to tell me what to do. Not when I'm damn certain something seriously weird is going on in this house."

Lyra didn't even try to struggle out of his iron grip, she simply stared up at him, fear blowing her pupils wide. He wasn't her father, but her that didn't seem to be making much of a difference.

She swallowed and looked to Jarvis. He was visibly shaken, eyes wide and waiting for her to say the word. But she knew she wouldn't. Lyra looked back up at Steve and took in the resistance behind his intense gaze. He needed answers; deserved them, so she had to give.

"Jarvis." Lyra murmured, eyes not leaving Steve's. "Go get Peggy." She swallowed softly. "Please."

Steve sucked in a harsh breath, but didn't release Lyra's arm. She could feel it bruising under his crushing grip and she shifted uncomfortably. He didn't seem to notice until she tugged back on her arm slightly, hissing between his teeth as he let her arm go like he'd been burnt.

"Sorry." Steve apologized.

Lyra nodded shakily and stepped as far away from him and the others as possible. Her body was still tender from her father's earlier assault.

"Lyra?" Peggy questioned as she stepped into the foyer. Her crisp, navy wrap dress no doubt looking foreign on her in Steve's eyes. "What's going on here?"

Lyra cleared her throat. "Someone's here to see you." She managed, hating how her voice shook. _Why did all of them have to come?_

Peggy furrowed her brow, finally looking up to see Steve standing there. The silence in the room was deafening and Lyra was acutely aware of the other's gazes on her as Steve and Peggy stared at each other.

Steve started towards Peggy who stepped back, hesitant.

"He's not going to hurt you, Peggy." Lyra said as she felt some unseen force nudge against her consciousness. "He won't hurt anyone." She shifted her feet, the right one sending the hair comb sliding towards Wanda. When had she dropped it?

Peggy steeled her eyes as she watched Lyra rub her upper arm unconsciously. "And yet he hurt you." She stated, voice cold and she glared at Steve. "You've injured her."

"I think we've all gotten a bit ahead of ourselves." Pepper stated and the others nodded. "Why don't we just take a step back and Lyra can explain things to us."

Lyra gave the red-head a quizzical look. "I'm not sure there's anything to explain." She replied politely and paused. "The only thing I can tell you is to say your goodbyes."

"Goodbyes?" Steve asked, alarm lacing his voice.

Peggy nodded. "Yes, our goodbyes." Her eyes were soft as she regarded Steve. "You cannot come back here. Not with how unpredictable Mr. Coulson has been. It's simply far too risky."

The others glanced at each other, silent communication taking place between the exchanged glances. "

"What do you mean he's been unpredictable?" Clint questioned. "Phil is about the most predictable person I know."

Lyra scoffed softly, tongue poking at the slightly loosened tooth from last night. "How can you be sure that you know him at all?" She countered.

Clint and Natasha opened their mouths to protest, but were cut off by Tony. "You know," He started. "Considering we just found out he has a secret daughter and two people who are supposed to be dead in his house...I don't think Phil is as predictable as we thought."

"Please. Say your goodbyes." Lyra insisted, tilting her head up to look at Steve as she wrung her hands. "For all our sakes. My father...you don't know what he's capable of."

"What exactly does that mean, Lyra?" Jane asked, casting Bruce and Darcy concerned looks. So far Thor, The Vision and Loki had remained which was curious, since the Trickster almost always had something to say.

Lyra backed away as the two doctors stepped forward, letting out a strangled shout as she bumped into Jarvis.

"Easy." Jarvis soothed and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

Bruce focused his gaze on the butler. "Has something been going on here?" He asked, voice sharp. "Is someone in this house hurting her?"

"Please." Jarvis murmured imploringly as he pulled Lyra closer to his side. "Please, just take this kindness she's given you and leave."

Loki shook his head. "No, something is clearly going on here." He paused and sighed. "We're not here to expose your secrets or something as mundane as that. We are genuinely concerned."

The others nodded in agreement as Steve glanced over at Peggy, who looked as if she feared for her life. Peggy had never be afraid of anything, not that Steve knew of. He'd never seen her scared once, not even when she was being shot at - even if this wasn't the Peggy he remembered...the expression didn't seem right on her face.

"Peggy?" He asked, watching Tony from his peripheral as said main skulked around the foyer. "What has you so afraid?"

Peggy shook her head. "Steve, please." She begged. "Just say your goodbye to me and leave this place."

"We could bug the place." Tony suggested, a strange kind of determination in his brown eyes. "That way we could come if something happens."

Lyra shook her head, honey colored ringlets bouncing and azure eyes wide with fear. " _NO."_ She protested loudly. "No, please don't. He'll _kill_ you."

"Sweetheart," Lyra bristled a little. "I've been bugging places since I was thirteen." Tony chuckled. "Mr. Yakamura in Tokyo still doesn't know..." He sighed. "Boy...the things I could tell his wife..."

"That's rude." Lyra stated harshly. "But, the answer is still no. I am not willing to risk Peggy and Jarvis' lives simply because you want to be a voyeur." She paused and swallowed. "Besides, even if you were being genuine in your concern...the people who help me always end up getting hurt."

Thor frowned. "Like you, young one?" He rumbled lowly. "I have become well accustomed with the injuries mortal weapons leave, and I do believe that is a bullet wound."

"You're also favoring your left side." Darcy added, more serious than any of them had ever seen her.

Bruce's eyes widened and he took several steps forward, only for Lyra and Jarvis to back away farther. "Lyra...what did he do to you?" He asked calmly, breathing deeply. "Please, I need to know so I can help."

"I was under the impression parents were supposed to protect their children." Vision said, a note of confusion in his voice. "Is this not the case?"

"No, it is." Bruce replied, shaking his head. "But not all parents do." He paused an arms length from Lyra, hands palm up. "Lyra, what did your father do to you?"

Lyra swallowed thickly and rubbed at her throat, full lips parted in hesitance as she remember the feeling of her father's hand around her pale neck crushing the breath from her lungs. "I left." She whispered finally, intense blue eyes holding his brown ones. "I left to go to Stark Tower to look for him, a-and he got home before I did and... _I didn't listen_ was his interpretation."

The whole room lapsed into heavy silence, Peggy's heels the only break when she shifted her weight.

Lyra looked at each face, her eyes pleading for help while simultaneously for them to get as far away from her as possible. People got hurt around her, people always got hurt and even though they were supers - gods even, she knew they would eventually get hurt too.

"At least let me have a look at you." Bruce pleaded. "For my peace of mind."

Lyra's eyes flicked to Peggy and then above her to Jarvis. She didn't know what to do. Strangers never tried to help her. No one except Peggy and Jarvis ever helped her.

"I - okay." Lyra sighed, voice small. "But not here. Upstairs...my room." She paused and looked to the others. "There's no point in me protesting...you might as well all come up."

The others nodded even as Jarvis protectively tightened his grip on her waist. "I'll stay here and keep an eye out for Mr. Coulson." Peggy stated.

Lyra gave her a small, grateful smile before it fell. "You didn't park in the driveway, did you?" She asked Tony.

Said man shook his head, a slight smirk on his lips. "Nope, we're about five blocks away."

She released a breath shakily. "Good, then we're safe for the moment." She turned back to Peggy. "Would you try and keep the staff away as well, please? I doesn't matter what you tell them but -"

"I understand." Peggy murmured, eyes flicking up to Steve before she looked back to Lyra. "I will do what I can without it seeming suspicious."

"Thank you." Lyra breathed before turning to climb the lavish, marble steps of the center staircase, acutely aware of the group following her.

She led them down the cream colored hallway leading to East Wing and into her spacious room before promptly shutting the oak door and pulling the curtains.

"Paranoid much?" Clint commented as he perched on one of her window seats.

"You would be too if you lived the way I lived." Lyra bit out and gave him a weary look. "Shoes off the cushion." She scolded. "Peggy just had them laundered."

"How could he keep all of this such a secret?" Wanda asked, eyes wide as she took in the large canopy bed covered in pure white bedding, the glass topped desk, the mirrored vanity and giant walk-in closet and basically everything about the room.

"Yes, how?" Pietro added. "With all the snooping Tony does when he's bored...it is surprising he did not come across this sooner."

"Never usually snoop on agents." Tony hummed as he stuck his head into the ensuite bathroom. "Mostly the people that work for me and this one girl at the convention last month..."

"We get it, Tony." Pepper said dryly as she watched Lyra lean against one of her bed posts, watching them.

Bruce looked at her, eyes soft as he began to roll up the sleeves of his plum colored dress shirt. "Whenever you're ready." He prompted gently.

Lyra hesitated, shifting nervously as all eyes turned to her before slowly, painfully reaching back to undo the lacing of her dress and let it fall away.

Everyone present gasped at the black and purple bruises marring her body. They curved and splotched, some stretching out and thin like veins under her skin. There were two handprint shaped ones on either side of her lips and her thighs were stained a dark blue.

"Phil did that?" Clint breathed, eyes wide with shock as he stared open mouthed.

"Of course he did." Lyra murmured as she stared down at the floor, eyes half-lidded and almost sad. "Simple things too...but they'll be healed by tonight, don't worry."

Darcy frowned. "Bruises don't heal that fast. Especially ones like that."

The others nodded in agreement as Loki stepped slightly closer to examine her with a scrutinizing eye. "Just what exactly are you, child?" He asked.

Lyra stared back at him, blue eyes holding green as confusion took over her features. "Human." She replied lowly. "What else would I be?"

* * *

 **Thanks you all for reading! Please leave a review...they give me encouragement :)**


	4. Chapter Four

**Hello all :) I apologize for this update taking so long. I'm in university and I have a very limited amount of time in which I can write. So thank you all for sticking with me 3**

* * *

"I realize now that dying is easy, it's living that's hard."

* * *

Tony shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around everything that had happened in the past two days. "This is insane." He muttered, shoving one hand through his hair. "The entire fucking world has lost its god damn mind."

Steve coughed. "Language, Tony." He scolded.

Lyra turned to appraise the Captain, wrapping her arms around her bruise littered torso. "It's alright, Captain Rogers." She said lowly. "I've heard far worse."

"It's still no excuse." Steve mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bruce nodded, giving Tony a mildly disapproving look as he reached out towards Lyra. "May I?" He asked softly, smiling gently when she nodded. "Your ribs are bruised, which isn't surprising given the amount of bruising." Warm hands ghosted over her body before Lyra sucked in a breath when he held her chin gently. "What's that cut from?"

Lyra swallowed, already feeling tears pricking the backs of her eyes. "The butt of his gun." She managed after a few moments, voice trembling. "He blitz attacked me when I walked through the door yesterday evening."

"You don't have to do this," Lyra added, ducking her head so that her honey-colored curls concealed the silent tears starting to drip down her cheeks. "You don't have to do this...I don't want to be a burden." She wasn't used to this. She wasn't used to kind hands and soft words - well not when it wasn't Jarvis or Peggy. These people were basically strangers and they were trying to piece her back together.

"Lyra," She jumped when she heard Steve's soft voice, looking up to see him staring with near perfect puppy dog eyes and was vaguely reminded of a golden retriever. "I-I really am sorry for grabbing you, honestly. I didn't mean -"

Lyra chuckled, but it was weak and shaky. "Captain Rogers, it's perfectly fine." She gave him a kind smile. "You wanted to see Peggy...I can understand that. If anyone kept me from -" She bit her tongue and shook her head softly. "Just...it's alright, don't beat yourself up over it."

Steve ducked his head, still somewhat ashamed. "If you say so." He murmured and winced in time with her as Bruce palpated a particularly sore spot.

"Ow." Lyra deadpanned and flinched violently when Bruce's hands drifted over her hips. "Don't! Don't touch me there."

Bruce frowned, slightly wide-eyed as he backed away a bit. "Okay, Lyra..." He murmured soothingly. "I'll back off."

"It's just..." She chewed on her lower lip and rubbed her shoulder self-consciously. "It just really badly and-"

"Lyra." Bruce interjected and swallowed, preparing himself for the answer he might receive. "D-Did your father rape you?"

The others inhaled sharply, Pepper and Wanda clapping their hands over their mouths. "No, Phil...he wouldn't. He wouldn't do something like that." Jane breathed, threading one shaky hand with Thor's as Lyra laced up her dress.

Lyra squeezed her eyes shut and perched on the edge of her bed, arms wrapped around herself. "H-He said I-I needed to learn my lesson." She murmured, hiccupping softly while tears trickled down her cheeks. "I-I should've n-never left the house. It's m-my fault."

Jarvis settled down on the bed next to her, wrapping one strong arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "It most certainly wasn't your fault." He murmured and pressed a kiss to her hair. "What he does to you is his own fault. He has full control of his actions."

She nodded and blinked back her tears before turning to the others. "You need to leave, now." Lyra stated firmly, giving the Avengers a desperate look. "Please just go. Before he comes back."

"He truly does have you scared, does he not?" Loki questioned softly, eyes sympathetic despite the pained expression on his face.

Lyra shifted her gaze to him, honey curls bouncing slightly as she nodded. "You have no idea of the things he's capable of."

* * *

Lyra froze as she heard the front door click closed, her hand freezing around the butter knife she had been reaching for to begin making a sandwich. She held her breath and waited, releasing it slowly when she heard her father pace in the direction of his study.

"Thank god..." She breathed and leaned against the counter in relief.

"Lyra." Her father called out and she began to tremble. "Lyra, get your worthless ass over here this instant!"

First instinct? Hide.

"Fucking brat!" She heard him snap and she shook as she pressed herself against the edge of counter - wishing she could just melt into the floor and disappear. "Get your stupid ass in here!" Phil shouted.

She ducked under the counter, hugging her knees to her chest and opening her mouth side to stifle her loud breathing through the narrow passages of her nose, watching his dress shoes click past her hiding spot.

Too late to pray she supposed.

"Lyra!" Phil bellowed. "Get your lazy, good for nothing ass out here! Do you hear me? This instant!"

She couldn't stop the scream that escaped her lips when he bent down and grabbed her by the ankle, dragging her out from under the counter.

"You stupid fucking slut." He snarled, his pupils dilated at the way she covered her face with her hands. "You heard me!"

"Please!" She screamed and he jerked her back against the floor, dragging her along like she weighed nothing. "Please, Daddy!"

"I am so sick of having such a stupid fucking kid." He muttered - like he didn't have her by the roots of her hair. "You're just so damn stupid!"

Lyra wailed as he chucked her against the wall. "Daddy please." She pleaded and scrambled back on her backside when he let her go.

Phil turned on her, eyes blazing. He wasn't drunk this time and that him all the more terrifying. His movements were coordinated, calculated and easy. He was coherent and knew exactly what to do aside from slamming her into things.

"What were the Avengers doing here, you little slut!" He shouted. "Huh? What were they doing here? Did you offer to fuck them?"

Lyra dared to raise her hands in defense as he brought his fist down, smashing it against the side of her head. "I-I didn't do anything." She sobbed. "I swear! I didn't do anything!"

"That's what whores say." He sneered at her. "You fucked them all, didn't you?"

That wasn't what she said. That wasn't anywhere near what she said. But could she really tell him that? It didn't matter to him - he just continued to scream at her and she was already crying.

"Please...stop." Was what she manged to sob out, raising her hands up to deflect a blow that landed.

The force of the punch knocked her to the ground...again, her skull cracking painfully against the marble floor. She gasped and dragged her hands against the floor, trying to inch away out of instinct; like she'd get far anyway.

"You stupid fucking little whore!" Phil spat, wrenching her up by her hair. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?!"

Lyra whimpered as he began to drag her up the stairs, using her hair as a leash. Her feet scrambled, pinching toes and causing sobs as her knees cracked painfully against the sharp edges of the stairs.

"I didn't do anything, Daddy. Please, stop!"

Her vision whited out as he slammed her first against the wrought iron banister and then against the wall before throwing her into his room where her chin struck the footboard of his bed.

"What did I say about begging?" Phil shouted. "Coulson's don't beg you worthless slut!"

Lyra sobbed, biting down hard on the knuckles of her right hand as he wrenched her up by the collar of her dress and throwing her forward, her skull bouncing with a sickening crack off the headboard.

Her vision swam with dark spots and Lyra whimpered as she felt her father's weight settle on top of her.

It was a blessing when she passed out just as his hands found their way up her skirt.

* * *

 **Hello all! I am so sorry for the update having taken so long. I am in university and therefore have very limited time in which I can spend time writing. I hope you all enjoy :) Please leave a review 3**


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